I Am Damaged Goods
by SignedSealedWritten
Summary: No, T-Tony. I am broken. I am damaged goods." After an investigation gone wrong, Tony finds a tortured Ziva. Continues into her recovery, mental and physical, from this capture.
1. Chapter 1

**I Am Damaged Goods **

She screamed, and it was a sound that punctured him. Tony knew it was the site of someone entering the shed that had done it to her – caused her to scream in the most violent and terrified of fashions. He was sure that his face fell and he knew that his heart dropped into his stomach. After two days of searching, he finally caught sight of the Ziva David.

He could see, from three or so yards away that she was in bad shape. Her leg was at a crooked angle and her clothing was torn and bloody – she was curled in the dirt that she'd lain on for two days; she was curled in on herself.

He rushed towards her, afraid of terrifying her but unable to help it – he had to get her out of there, fast. She screamed again, but it was a warning this time, and it ended on a hacking cough as she attempted to push herself from the dirt and scuttle away from her partner.

Tony grabbed her flailing arms, stopping further injury. "Ziva-"

"Leave me alone!" She shouted, and he didn't fail to notice the bruises on her face, her torn clothing, or the deep fear in her dark eyes – she didn't show that fear, ever. He hadn't seen that fear when he rescued her from Somalia; he'd never seen that level of fear in the infallible woman before him. She was weak – in past years, it would have taken a lot of effort, or been nearly impossible, for him to restrain her, but it was all too easy this time.

"Okay," He soothed, forcing himself not to look away from the woman before him and the condition that she was in. Tony looked at her eyes, they were still that wild, panicked fear that they'd been moments before. "I need you to calm down for me, Zi. Can you do that? Shh." He spoke and listened behind him, hoping that Gibbs would hurry in soon – he didn't know if he could do this by himself. He needed Gibbs's help.

Why was it always her? Why, after finally he could see the hope in her face again after Somalia, did she have to get captured during this investigation gone wrong? He could see it – see what they'd done to her, beaten and tortured –she didn't need this, he didn't think she could handle this right now. And by the sight before him, he'd been judging correctly.

She relaxed, suddenly, as if all the strength she'd managed to hold on to had left her in a flash.

"You recognize me, don't you Zee-vah?" He asked soothingly, moving closer to her. He caught the tiniest of nods from her as her eyelids fluttered. Gently, with tenderness she didn't know he'd had, he lifted up her head and placed it back down in his lap. "No sleeping, not just yet." He warned, watching the doorway for Gibbs, afraid to move her any more than he already had. "Are you comfortable?" Tony realized what a stupid sentence that was – of course she wasn't, but he was hoping he'd made her the tiniest bit more comfortable than she'd been seconds ago. She didn't answer him. "Alright Zi, just relax. There you go, it's over." He didn't know whether he was speaking for her or for himself, but it didn't matter. They had her back – _that_ was what mattered. What mattered was that he made the tough angel before him as comfortable as humanly possible. She'd been through too much for him not to do just that – and she was letting him. She wasn't resisting, and whether it was because she didn't have the strength to or because she wanted him there, he was going to keep doing what he was doing.

"Di… Nozzo." She shook out the word, stuttered it.

"The only one, Zee-vah … actually, there are more, but … you get the point. Are you alright?" He asked another stupid question, and to his disbelief – at her honesty – she shook her head. She cradled one bruised arm against her chest, the fingers of that hand brushing against the fabric of his jeans.

"No, T-Tony. I am broken.

I am damaged goods."

Author's Note:

Should I continue?

For Abby – because there are grapes in this world. And there are also people talking to themselves out loud in a library. And speaking to flags. And, um… you're calling me.


	2. Chapter 2

**I Am Damaged Goods**

"No, you're not, Ziva." He soothed, resting a hand on her cheek. It was hot to the touch. "You are not broken." _And if she was, I'd put her back together_. She coughed roughly, her entire body heaving. The fingers on the hem of his jeans tightened. He remembered all the times they'd taunted each other – in the bullpen, in the break room – all the times he'd corrected an idiom, and wondered how this hurting woman with her head in his lap could possibly be the same one.

"You nearly drove us up the hall, Ziva." He attempted when she didn't respond. Her grip on the hem of his pants was still tight; Tony thought he saw white sticking out of the crooked angle of her leg and sucked in a breath. Her eyes seemed to follow his, because she shuddered and Tony's attempt at humor was lost.

He didn't have the chance to comfort her again – at that moment, Leroy Jethro Gibbs came at a jog into the shed. Tony saw the former marine's eyes flash with an angry determination before the man stuck his head outside the shed and yelled, "Duck, in here!" He hurried back towards them, his dark jacket fluttering. Gibbs stopped next to DiNozzo, crouching down. Ducky soon joined them, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

"She's got a fever." Tony didn't wait for his boss to ask. "Leg's screwed up and she's lost blood."

"From the way she's holding her torso, broken ribs are a good bet as well." Ducky answered, crouching by her side.

"_She_…" Ziva attempted, spirit rising for just a moment. "She is right here." Perhaps seeing more of her team had encouraged her.

"Sorry, Ziva." He apologized quickly.

"DiNozzo, McGee needs your help with suspects." Gibbs said, and when Tony shot him a defiant glance, he fixed him with a warning one right back.

"I'll be back." Tony promised, shrugging off his jacket and placing it below her head before leaving.

As DiNozzo left the room to help McGee contain the suspect, Gibbs bent down by the hurt young woman. She cradled one arm against her chest – the arm was covered in bruises. As Ducky had said, the other hand gingerly covered her ribs – as if she didn't want anyone to touch her.

Ducky moved slowly, fearful of startling her. He was aware of how quickly she could instinctively turn on him, even weak as she was- especially when she was scared. "Distract her for me, Jethro." He spoke, knowing that wasn't an easy task, not even for Gibbs.

The man bent down, closer to Ziva. Her eyes were tracking him, watching his every move. She coughed and her face tightened in pain. "Toda, Gibbs." She whispered, trying to keep her eyes open.

"For?" He asked gently. The Senior Special Agent quietly took the hand that rested against her ribs into his own, removing it inconspicuously so that Ducky could examine her. He gave her fingers a squeeze.

"I did…" She breathed sharply as Ducky's hand passed over her ribs."Not wish for … DiNozzo…" She swallowed. 'To witness me … as I am now."

"Ein Be'ad Mah, Ziva." He said to her in Hebrew, calling on what he knew of the language. He knew that she hadn't wanted Tony to see her – she'd probably kick him out if she didn't already know what his answer would be. He saw her yes glaze over and her muscles tighten as Ducky's hand pressed ever so slightly to her ribs, counting how many were broken and where. "Ziver, stay with me." He asked of her. 'Don't go back to what Duck's doing. Talk to me."

Through gritted teeth, she asked, "About what, Gibbs?" Now that the team was here, she was gaining some strength back, relaxing her instincts as much as she could – but she was also attempting to show as little of her pain as possible, however much that was failing at the moment.

"Anything." He said, one eye on Ducky as he moved to check out her leg. "What should I get you instead of hospital food, Ziver?" He asked kindly, trying to distract her.

"I would murder for a milkshake." She said shakily. A momentary smile passed over her features.

"As long as you don't murder me." Ducky called to her, smiling and shaking his head at the resilience that she still had left.

"The phrase is 'kill for', Ziva." Gibbs was smiling as well.

Ducky pressed a bandage over the exposed wound of her broken leg. A wave of pain passed over her face, and Gibbs tapped the ground to grab her attention back. In the distance, he heard the wail of approaching ambulances.

There was a broken look in the young woman's eyes, one that he wanted to wipe away. He couldn't stand to see the hurt there, to hear it in her voice. He caught the moment she was about to lash out on Ducky. "Relax, Shayna." The familiar word caught her off-guard and he saw her shoulders relax marginally. "Nobody's going to hurt you again." He realized that he'd failed on that promise in the past and squeezed her hand.

"I am neither beautiful or pretty right now, Gibbs." She answered after a moment where her eyes had gazed over. "I am no 'shayna'." _I am broken. I am damaged goods. _

"I disagree." He countered.

A medic touched his shoulder and he reluctantly let go of his grasp, stepping back, out of Ziva's line of vision. Ducky joined him.

"Gibbs." She called out, contained panic in her voice.

"Right here, Ziva." He assured her. Frankly, the level of fear in her eyes surprised him, though he'd never thought of her as infallible. Everybody had their breaking points, and she'd found hers through Somalia and now. The combination of the two had cracked the wall she kept so tightly built around herself.

He could hear her heavy, quick breaths over the sounds of the EMT's working to load her onto a gurney. Gibbs caught a glimpse of her face as an EMT changed positions. He eyes were much the same as they'd been when DiNozzo had walked in and found her – wild, panicked, scared. Just as soon as he saw them, she shut them, struggling to control her breathing. He knew what the straps of the gurney were doing – giving her flashbacks of her time in Somalia, when she'd been bound. Anyone who'd been trained as she had wouldn't take kindly to it, but she was doing relatively well, given the situation. If they weren't necessary, he would have stopped it altogether, but he knew that they were.

Not wanting to take a chance, he moved into line besides her as they began to move the gurney, her body tensing visibly. "I'll be riding with her." He asserted, and one look from the EMT at the agent's face was cause enough not to argue.

He walked forward into the muddy light of the outdoors, catching the eyes of DiNozzo and McGee, standing with their suspect handcuffed. The man's head was high, his dark eyes flat of emotion. A smile lifted the corners of his lips. Tony shoved the man towards Gibbs once Ziva was loaded in the ambulance, out of sight.

"What do you-" Tony began, but Gibbs cut him off.

"Bring him to interrogation. Leave him there, and then join me at the hospital. Got it?" He said it all while staring into the eyes of the man before him.

"Yeah, boss." McGee said, and Tony jerked the suspect away. Gibbs could just hear Tony's words to the man as he departed. _"Not sure when we'll be back_." He said. "_Could be days._"

Gibbs smiled.

**Author's Note: **

**Hebrew: English**

**Toda: **_**thanks. **_

**Ein Be'ad Mah: **_**Don't mention it; you're welcome. **_

**Shayna: **_**beautiful, pretty**_**. **

**Nine reviews, oh my! You guys are awesome. Fantastically awesome. **

**Still, though, I feel like this chapter was pointless/ out of character. I mean, obviously they'd be a bit out of the norm in the given situation, but … yeah, I don't know. Opinions? **

**Dedicated to my grandma, who always calls me shayna. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I Am Damaged Goods **

"I have lost myself again  
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,  
Yeah I think that I might break  
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe."

-Breathe Me, Sia

He sat close to the head of the gurney, watching as they slid a needle into the underside of her arm, taping it there. He watched as they slid a board beneath her leg; saw the flickering of emotion across her face. She was looking at nobody but him, blocking out the rest of the world. He despised that she was so frightened, that she'd had to go through so much. It pained him to see that the woman he'd grown to love as a daughter in so much pain. He'd unconsciously called on his paternal side when he'd seen her lying with her head in Tony's lap. Gibbs met eyes with one of the EMTs, and then looked back towards Ziva. "Are you still in pain?" He asked, placing a hand on top of her head.

She blinked, twice – the lights were starting to go hazy. "Some." She said, feeling as if she were stumbling over her tongue. "I do not want to be numb."

He gathered her hair away from her face, freeing it from beneath her shoulders. "You're safe, Ziva – I'm not going to let anybody get past me – and we caught him." He soothed. "You can rest. You did well."

She swallowed, trying to get the words past the exhaustion. There was something – something she needed to tell him, something important. She felt as if it were one of those dreams that you tried to hold on to when you woke up, only to find the more you tried to remember it the more it faded away. "I am … afraid, Gibbs." It came out like a question.

"Fear is a natural response." He assured her. "It's okay." Again he took her hand, covering it with both of his. She suddenly seemed so small in the gurney, strapped there, the EMTs working to straighten out her leg. He leaned in to whisper his words, only for her. "I'm proud of you, Ziver."

"I am not proud of myself."

Her words broke his heart, but her hand tightened in his. "I'm proud enough for the both of us." He assured her with a sad smile. The ambulance sped its way towards the hospital, the sirens overhead roaring.

She felt the sedative they'd given her working its way through her system, turning everything slow and soft – it scared her, but she forced that feeling away. She'd been taught to use fear – use it as a response, and every instinct was telling her that this situation was dangerous – but for one of the first times in her life, she attempted to ignore them. Ziva blinked and found it hard to re-open her eyes, but found the words she'd been attempting to speak earlier.

"Gibbs…" She felt a tingling over her lips and spoke her words thickly. "What …. 'bout 'is brother?"

--

"Tell me you have him, Timmy." The forensics analyst said into the phone, pacing. She absolutely despised not being out there with them right now – Ziva was out there, hurt and afraid, and she was stuck here in her lab.

"We have him." McGee said, but his voice wasn't as happy as she wanted it to be and she stopped her pacing.

"What aren't you telling me?" She asked, and she could nearly see him flinch. "McGee, you better tell me the truth." She warned, her brow drawn as she turned to her computer, ready to hack into the hospital's records and find out exactly what he wasn't telling her.

"I am!" He exclaimed. "We have O'Neil and Gibbs is riding to the hospital with Ziva."

"McGee, how bad is she?" Abby tapped her fingers on the lab table, another warning in her voice – the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. "Don't lie to me."

"Bad?" He answered, and Abby sucked in a breath. "She'll live, Abby. She's …" He tried to find words to explain what little of her condition Tony had told him. "She's hurt pretty bad, Abby – broken leg and ribs, and well…"

"That bastard didn't, McGee. Tell me he didn't." She hit the table with her fist .

"Tony thinks so." He heard a crash over the end of the phone and spoke quickly. "We're on our way to place O'Neil in interrogation. We're leaving him there and then we're heading to the hospital."

"I'm coming with you, McGee. And don't you dare give that bastard so much as a glass of water." She said, and he hadn't expected anything less. She hung up the phone and grabbed her coat – and Bert.

--

**Author's Note: **

**I'm sorry that this chapter was shorter – I couldn't think of a better place to end it. Writing Abby was more fun than I thought it would be. :) I can't tell you how ESTATIC I am that I got so many reviews – keep them coming! There's nothing that spurs me to write more than reviews! **

**If you can't tell, I only started watching NCIS a month or so ago – which was why I was so hesitant when I began writing the story. I hope it doesn't show. Anyway, thanks again! **


	4. Chapter 4

**I Am Damaged Goods**

"As darkness quickly steals the light  
that shined within her eyes  
she slowly swallows all her fear  
and soothes her mind with lies"

"Even when I found out she was an agent, I still enjoyed it." O'Neil said as he was pushed through the NCIS building towards interrogation. The man – if he could be considered that – stopped short and looked at Tony. There was something evil in his eyes; his eyes held a secret.

"Move forward." Tony said, and his voice was monotone. "Now." He feared that if he attempted to speak with any more emotion than the plain, flat, cadence of monotone, he would lose his control.

"Was she your friend?" O'Neil asked. "Was she your partner? Your lover? She'll never be the same, you know." His voice was gleeful, enraging DiNozzo. "She disserved it, that ungrateful little –"

He was cut off with a knee to the back that caused him to stumble forward. "Hey!" He shouted, causing several heads around them to turn. "There are _regulations_ against that!"

"In _this_ country," Tony said, shoving the man forward again. "But I'm speaking for Agent David today, and she knew several other countries quite well." He leaned in, close to the man's ear. "Push me. I beg you."

O'Neil didn't answer.

"That's what I thought." Tony said.

They continued towards interrogation, Tony hoping for the chance to knee him in the back one more time. McGee had gone down to Abby's lab to bring her with them. Coming up to the door of interrogation and finding it open, he shoved O'Neil through and Tony forced him into the chair, handcuffs still on. He leaned over the captured criminal, his eyes flashing. "I'm going to go visit my partner in the hospital now." He said coolly. "And, when I'm good and ready, I'll come back."

--

He found them in the parking lot standing by the sedan, waiting for him. Abby had her stuffed hippo tucked beneath her right arm. Her hair was in pigtails and she looked ready to take someone down.

"Tony!" She called out, dashing forward and pitching herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. He felt Bert pressed against his back.

"Ouch, Abby." He complained, and she stepped back, her eyes firey.

"Someone needs to explain, and since you're the only one who _saw_ her…" She tapped a foot. "I've got to know what happened to our Ziva, Tony!" She exclaimed. "You don't understand – I'm stuck in my lab! For all I know…" She trailed off.

"I'll explain in the car." He promised, and she didn't argue. Abby slid into the backseat of the car, McGee riding shotgun and Tony in the driver's seat. The NCIS Agent started the car and had backed out of the parking spot before he began to speak.

"She's in bad shape." He started, nearly able to feel Abby's wince. "She wa running a fever, had several broken ribs, and her leg…" He shook a head, a shiver running down his spine. He stared out at the road he was driving on. "She didn't recognize me, not at first."

"Oh, _Ziva_." Abby whispered. She couldn't do this, not again, she wouldn't. She hadn't thought she'd make it through Kate … she couldn't lose another best friend.

"She'll pull through, Abby." McGee said.

"Good." Abby said, leaning her head against the car window, eyes tracking the passing buildings of D.C. Bert sat on the seat next to her.

--

When they wheeled her in, Gibbs was still attempting to process the words that Ziva had spoken to him before she went unconscious. By the time he'd entered the emergency room, keeping stride with the stretcher, he'd already called the director of NCIS, who'd placed another team temporarily on the case – until Gibbs' team felt they could leave the hospital with their full attention on investigation. She was slipping in and out of it now as he followed the stretcher through the emergency room. When she was conscious, she was watching him – panicked eyes in fear of her sudden loss of control.

O'Neil's files spoke of a brother.

A brother that had been dead for the past five years. Right before Harold O'Neil – the elder brother by two years, six months – had begun taking unfaithful navy wives captive.

The younger O'Neil – Donald – had been killed by the man with whom his wife had been having an affair with.

Gibbs didn't understand – Ziva had spoken as if Donald was alive. He was _dead_.

The man sighed. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Sir – Agent Gibbs…" His eyes flickered up to the nurse, attempting to grab his attention. She seemed timid when she spoke. A new nurse, he figured, perhaps an intern. "You may wait in the emergency room."

"No, I'll be staying with her." He corrected, to which the woman shook her head. Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"She'll have someone prepping her for surgery very soon." The nurse said, and Gibbs read her nametag as Tracey. She still sounded timid, more so when she looked at the man's face.

"I don't think you heard me." Gibbs countered. "I wasn't asking a question."

"_Sir_-"

"_Don't make him leave_." Ziva's voice was a whisper, strained. _I need a hand to hold_, she thought.

"I … fine." The woman answered, seeming resigned. "Don't expect the fault to lie with me." She assured roughly, wheeling the injured young woman into an unoccupied room. Inside, there were waiting EMTs – two male and a female- to lift her into the hospital bed from the stretcher.

She saw them – the two men – and the crazed look in her eyes returned. His hesitation was only a second but it cost them all the same. In those seconds – no more than ten, no less than five – something seemed to crack within Ziva. The former Mossad officer strained against the straps holding her to the stretcher, panicking. Her straining did nothing to the straps, they remained secure, but it was her he was worried about.

He moved the stunned nurse out of his way, coming close to Ziva, entering her line of vision. With one hand, he shoved the approaching EMTs away from the stretcher.

"Look at me." He insisted, but she was seeing nothing of the real world: whatever she was seeing was in her mind.

"Salim," She breathed. "O'Neil." Her eyes were far away, lost.

"Look at me." He continued. "_Now_, Ziva." If she hadn't been strapped down, he wouldn't have dared to touch her cheek, but restrained, she couldn't have the response she might have. Gently, he touched her lower jaw. She jerked away.

"They're going to… can't, not again…" She seemed to see her boss for the first time. "Gibbs!" She cried out. "They're-"

"Not real, Ziver." He promised, stroking back her hair.

"But…" She said, her eyes finally coming back to his face. "They're right there. _Please_." The word was heart-breaking.

"They're not." He assured her, rubbing her arm with the heel of a hand. "It's in your head. They're just EMTs." Gibbs soothed.

She swallowed, blinking rapidly. He realized with a sharp pain that she was attempting not to cry. "Remove the restraints, Gibbs. Please, I beg of you." The question seemed to take something from her. The fire she always had in her eyes was replaced with a deep sort of sadness. She shuddered, forcing herself to believe that it was not Salim or O'Neil standing in the room with her.

Gibbs wasn't the one to ask permission – but the people before him were the professionals in this, and it was Ziva's health that was at stake. His eyes went to them for permission, and Tracey nodded once.

With gentle, steady hands, he undid the strap that held her torso to the stretcher. Her leg still remained attached to the wooden board, Ziva struggled to sit up. Instead of forcing her to lay back down, he came closer to her, placing his arm behind her back and supporting her as she wrapped her arms around him, broken. Her arms shook.

"I know, Ziva. I know."

**Author's Note: **

**Thanks for reading! I hope you'll review, and I'm so glad that there are people who like this story. Opinions, comments, suggestions – all are welcome. Even people who didn't like it – just tell me what you didn't like so that I can improve! **

**By the way, Abby was right. Pistachios are addicting. You cannot eat just one. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter: the next one will have the team at the hospital (Tony, McGee, Abby, Ducky, and if people think it's a good idea, Palmer.) **

**Thanks for reading, again! **


	5. Chapter 5

**I Am Damaged Goods **

"The lights go out all around me  
One last candle to keep out the night  
And then the darkness surrounds me  
I know I'm alive  
But I feel like I died  
And all that's left is to accept that it's over  
My dreams ran like sand through the fists that I made  
I try to keep warm but I just grow colder  
I feel like I'm slipping away."

-Superchick, Beauty from Pain

Walking through the glass doors of Bethesda Naval Hospital, NCIS Special Agent Tony DiNozzo cast a glance over his shoulder to those following him. Abigail Scuito and Timothy McGee were silent upon entering the hospital.

"Let me do the talking." He said to them, and neither had the spirit to argue. Tony's voice didn't have the same teasing quality that it always did; he sounded drained. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ducky and Palmer rise from the hard, plastic hospital chairs they were sitting on in the waiting room to join him in his procession to the front desk.

"NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo." His voice didn't leave room for compromise as he addressed the secretary. He flashed his badge but did not sport the customary smile. Behind him and to his side, they – Abby, McGee, Ducky, and Palmer – flashed badges as well.

"What can I do for you, Agent DiNozzo?" The woman asked. She appeared to be in her late thirties; she had blonde hair and dark brown eyes.

"We're here to see Ziva David." He over pronounced her last name, dare this secretary spoke it wrong. She set her fingers to the keyboard, typing the name and pushing up her glasses.

"She's got an hour before surgery." The secretary said. DiNozzo read her nametag on the green scrubs – Nicole. "I can only allow two of you in to see her. Protocol applies even for NCIS agents." She looked apologetic.

Even so, Tony opened his mouth to argue. Ducky, however, placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Giving it a squeeze, he said, "Tony, Abigail, why don't the two of you head over." He smiled gently. "She responded well to you before." He explained. "And some positivity from you, Abigail, could not hurt her."

Nicole looked to them, a question in her eyes. McGee couldn't help but note how tired she appeared to be, stray blonde hairs falling from the sides of a messy bun. There were circles under her dark eyes. "Yeah, Tony." He said, ushering his hand forward in a 'go on' motion. "Palmer, Ducky, and I can wait." He released his grip on Abby's hand.

Palmer nodded. "I can wait." He tried to smile, and failed.

"That's settled then." Tony said, putting his arm around Abby's shoulders, a smile failing him as well. "Let's go see Ziva."

--

"Gibbs."

The man in question turned towards the voice coming from the hospital bed. Ziva David blinked slowly, drowsy, making sure it was still her boss, that he hadn't transformed when she hadn't been looking. He could see her struggle with this new found dependence, it played out in her eyes. In that way, she reminded him of himself – he didn't go around letting others help him, or explaining his feelings. The occasion was rare. She needed somebody, Gibbs could see that. She was hurting. Ziva was afraid.

And her partner was beating himself up for it.

Her capture's fault could have laid with any of his team. He blamed himself, for not having been the one providing back-up.

Tony, however, had been right for the part.

She'd been undercover as an unfaithful wife of a marine – nothing she hadn't done before. Tony had played the part of her husband. She'd gone missing from the house they'd been working in, O'Neil had been watching the house. Tony had been knocked unconscious in the struggle, completely unable to stop the criminal from capturing his partner.

Gibbs had only been two blocks down, and had never received the call – for it had never been made. When he'd checked in with them – three times – and received no answer – he'd checked in with them and found an unconscious DiNozzo. By the time an ambulance had arrived – which Tony profusely refused – Gibbs knew with certainty that the former Mossad officer had been kidnapped.

They had fifty six hours. They knew this from the previous murders and kidnappings.

Looking towards her now, he realized not for the first time just how close they'd come to that deadline. Eight hours more, and she'd have been lost.

"I'm still here." He assured her.

She swallowed, dizzy. "That's …good." The words didn't seem right to her. She closed her eyes, annoyed by the oxygen tube.

"Boss." The word came from the doorway of room G103, Ziva's hospital room, accompanied by a quicker "_Gibbs!_"

"Right on time, DiNozzo." Gibbs said without turning around. "Hey, Abs."

"Ziva!" Abby cried out upon looking past Gibbs, rushing forward. She remembered, it seemed like millennia ago, when she'd hated the woman before her – or at least come as close to hate as she possibly could. She'd blamed her for Kate's death – _if only she could have stopped her sooner _– she remembered the cat fight in the lab. She remembered all of this, put behind them. The two of them now – she couldn't stand the thought of losing her. She couldn't lose another person. She'd almost lost Tony, then she'd lost Kate, and she'd almost lost Gibbs, too. She couldn't lose someone else.

"Hello, Abby." Ziva said, her head falling towards where the forensics analyst stood. Her words were slow. Abby wasn't entirely sure, but she thought she saw the woman's eyes flicker to Tony.

Gibbs pushed his chair back to allow the two agents to come closer, though she didn't miss his hand, held by his side, signing the word "slowly". She nodded, slowing down considerably. With both hands, she held out Bert. "I brought Bert for you." She placed the stuffed hippo down on the bedside table, her eyes on Ziva. The woman did not answer, but her eyes followed Abby. She didn't seem to have the words to answer her friend. She did, however, offer the ghost of a smile, one that could not quite be classified as actually being one.

"Ziv-"

"No…apologies, Tony." She whispered. Her throat was hoarse from the past two days.

Gibbs's lips twitched. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's a sign of weakness?" He turned his head over his shoulder to look at the younger man, who had his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders closer to his ears than normal. Tony thought, but was not quite sure, that he caught a wink from Gibbs.

A knock came at the door to the room, each agent turned to find a tall middle-aged man standing there, wearing a white lab coat with two black stick pens in the front pocket. Tony looked from that man, obviously a doctor, towards Ziva.

"Doctor Jason Jordan," He introduced himself with a tight lipped smile. "I'm an anesthesiologist."

After years at the job, he could tell who was in charge in a group. His eyes landed on Gibbs, nodding to the man. To Ziva and Gibbs, he began to explain what was to occur. Abby edged closer to Tony, who was leaning against the far wall, in view of Ziva. It hadn't been Abby's imagination: Ziva's eyes kept drifting back to him.

After Dr. Jordan had placed a mask over Ziva's mouth and nose, she began to get drowsy faster, her eyes drifting open and close. Without asking permission, Tony moved closer to the bedside. Ziva's eyes – when opened – were still on him. "We'll be here when you get back, promise." He told her, offering a smile.

Her lips moved, silently, and Tony cocked his head to the side, not understanding. The woman in question did not have time to explain – after her silently spoken words, her eyes slipped shut. Dr. Jordan, ready to wheel her into the OR, ushered them out – he'd already made enough exceptions that day.

They were silent when walking back down the hallway towards the emergency room. While Gibbs was pressing the button for the elevator, Abby was slowly shaking her head. "I don't _understand-_" she murmured, and turned to Tony.

"Abby-"

"No, not that." She said, shaking her head again. She furrowed her brow. "I mean, yeah, don't understand _any_ of this – who _does?_ – but what she said."

Tony looked at her for a moment. "You understood what she said? "

She nodded, her eyes confused. "I read lips." It didn't come as a surprise to him. "But I must have read hers wrong."

"What did she say, Abs?" Gibbs asked, hearing the approaching ding of the elevator, waiting to carry them back towards the emergency room.

"Why would she say 'my hairy little butt?'"

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **

**I couldn't resist that little bit of fluffery at the end of it. I do hope you enjoyed it – I got a review last chapter asking me what the point was, of putting Ziva through this. Besides telling you that you have to read to understand, I guess – it's that, after Somalia, yes, she was broken. But she wasn't ready to fully let them help her. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this again – and yes, the next chapter will be up soon. If you have any suggestions, feel free to suggest away! **

**Please, review. Give me your opinions. I want to know what you feel about the chapter! **

**-SSW**


	6. Chapter 6

**I Am Damaged Goods**

"Where are we?

What the hell is going on?

The dust has just begun to fall,

Crop circles in the carpet,

Sinking, Fading,

Spin me 'round again,

And rub my eyes,

This can't be happening."

-Hide and Seek, Imogen Heap

When she closed her eyes, her world dropped away. Pieces of it, like shards of a mirror, fell just out of her grasp. Ziva David could see everything in them, reflected back at her. _"That you had my back," She heard in her own voice. "You have always had my back." _They were real, impossibly real, sharp and painful as a blade of a knife pressing against her skin. _"You jeopardized your entire career … for what!" "For you." _She tried, desperately, to cling on to these small pieces, her only sanity, though they turned out to be just like real shards of glass: the tighter she clutched them, the more it hurt. _"I was just…" "Having phone sex?"_ Subconsciously she pushed away the more recent, grasping for the ones that she was sure of. _"Ziva, can you fight?"_ She was not sure whether they hurt because of what they were, of what they said and implied, or for some other reason entirely. _"Why are you here?" _"_Couldn't live without you, I guess." _

She tried to let them go but they clung to her, dancing before her and just out of her reach. _"I owe you, Ziva." "I'll collect." _She was in a land of dreams and nightmares, peaceful and disturbing._"She died alone." "We are all alone."_ She felt as if someone were watching her, a presence hanging on the end. _"Out of all the people to find me, it had to be you." _

Whatever was watching her - it wasn't threatening.

--

His hands shook; he saw each individual finger tremble violently. Anthony DiNozzo stared at his shaking hands, held a distance before his eyes. Abby's words repeated in his ears, pressing against his skull, an echo that would not end. He alone knew that she hadn't read Ziva's lips wrong. He alone knew what those words meant …

"DiNozzo! The elevator?"

His eyes snapped back to the elevator, where Gibbs had called his name. He dropped his hands back to his sides.

"I, uh-" He laughed, shortly, shaking his head quickly from side to side. He seemed to be trying to dislodge something. "I'll catch the next one, boss." Tony smiled, but it was an illusion of a smile; it was a distraction.

"_Tony_." Abby exclaimed, her brow furrowed, but Gibbs interrupted her with a hand on the goth's shoulder.

"Let him go, Abs." He told her.

"But, Gibbs-" She cried out, still facing her friend while the silver elevator doors closed, blocking him from their view.

"Let him go." He said again.

She turned to face him, her eyes full of questioning. "Was it something I did, Gibbs?"

He smiled gently, a different person with her than he was with anyone else. It was undeniable that she was more than just the forensics analyst to him. She was something he had lost, a ghost of a feeling that he only wished he couldn't place. "Nothing you could have possibly done." He assured her. Abby was more than the forensics analyst; she was nothing short of a daughter.

"Maybe what I said to him… what Ziva said…" She was rambling now. "I should have kept my mouth shut, Gibbs!"

"Abby-"

"_Gibbs_!" She responded, her eyes full of tears. "I said something wrong! I had to have! And she -" Her hands were moving in exaggerated movements; the young Goth was frantic. "She's _never_ like this, you know that, she's _really _hurt!" She was taking short, fast breaths, tears threatening to fall over the edge.

And just as suddenly as her words had started, they stopped again. Abby's shoulders stooped and the tears that she'd held back cascaded down her cheeks. It was an instinct, for Gibbs to reach forward and pull the young woman into his arms, shielding her from everything outside of the elevator. One hand was clutched in the fabric of his shirt, the other over his shoulder. The agent and analyst remained in that embrace for the remainder of the eight floor elevator ride as Abby's shoulder shook uncontrollably.

Gibbs wasn't sure whether it was the ghost of a feeling, or an actuality – but he felt a single tear trek down his cheek, one that he would not admit to.

--

He was still shaking when he listened to the elevator begin its descent, and briefly entertained the notion that he was going into shock. Realizing that someone might notice the man in the NCIS windbreaker, standing stock still and staring into space in front of the closed elevator door, he shook himself again. Tony looked towards the room that he, Abby, and Gibbs had just left. He detected movement through the glass doors …

His feet were moving without his permission, moving towards room G103. His own movement surprised him as much as it would an onlooker. A myriad of feelings were racing through his veins, ones that he couldn't decipher.

There was guilt. He knew without a doubt he could have stopped this. This didn't have to have happened – it shouldn't have happened. O'Neil never should have been able to lay a finger on her.

He felt hate, rage. Not towards her, but towards O'Neil, towards the events that had transpired. And, if he had to admit it, he was enraged at himself.

There was some strange form of relief. IT was over – part of it was over, at the very least, and he was thankful for that. It might not have been the largest part, or the most important part – the most important part of it was her recovery - but part of it was behind them all the same.

But, through all of these, was one he couldn't define – or maybe didn't _want_ to define. It raced to the top of his throat into the pit of his stomach; it was a fleeting and restless feeling.

He'd felt it before, but never like this.

He was at the door to G103 before he'd even realized it. He didn't k now what he was doing there. Tony saw two doctors inside, the ends of their white lab coats fluttering as they moved around the bed on wheels Ziva was now on. She looked so different, lying so still. She looked to him small, and fragile – but still beautiful. Tony winced, feeling that she would slap him for even thinking that.

"I am so sorry, Ziva." He broke the rule.

When she was gone, he leaned his head against the doorway, and attempted not to cry.

--

When they emerged from the elevator, nobody could tell what had occurred inside. Abby's eyes were dry as she emerged first, black hair swinging in pigtails. Gibbs followed her.

Coming back into the emergency room, they caught sight of Ducky, Palmer, and McGee sitting in one corner of the room. Ducky rose first as the two walked towards them.

"How is she, Jethro?" He spoke, concern running through his voice.

McGee rose next, looking from Gibbs to Abby and back again. "Boss?" He asked. Abby looked to Gibbs, waiting for him to speak.

"She's going into surgery to repair her leg." He said, looking at Ducky. "They managed to get her fever down some, but not enough." He'd spoken to several doctors since she'd arrived. When she'd separated from Mossad, he'd taken power of attorney – allowing him to make quick medical decisions in situations such as this. He didn't mention what else they'd found – evidence that it had gone much further than physical or psychological torture – she could tell them, when and if she was ready. "They'll need to put pins in her leg." He continued, and anybody could detect the anger in his voice.

"She's not going to like that, boss." McGee said.

"She doesn't have a _choice_, McGee." Gibbs said, but he too knew that would be difficult for her – having to remain still for some time. "Someone will be with her most of the time."

"She's not going to like that, either." McGee interrupted.

"Which is why one of us is gonna be with her." He finished. He didn't have plans to leave the hurt young woman alone for more than they had to. The other team was working on the case, but he didn't want it out of his control for much longer.

Palmer had remained silent throughout the course of the conversation, but spoke to Ducky now. "If you, uh, want, I can handle autopsies while you stay here – so you can stay here." He said. "I'll be fine."

Doctor Mallard never got to answer him, because at that moment, DiNozzo emerged from the hallway leading into the emergency room. His face was a mask.

Abby ran towards him, wrapping her arms around him. He barely reacted, his eyes were far away. She reached up on her tiptoes, her mouth next to his ear, and whispered something.

Tony smiled.

**TBC**

_**Author's Note**__: _

**Thank you very much for reading, everyone! I'm glad that there are people reading this still. Please, if you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! I'm already using one of the suggestions I've got, and you'll see that in the next chapter. I hope that you like the direction this is taking so far. **

**Opinions, please? Review, it makes my tiny shiny world go round. **

**And it makes the back pain from sitting at this laptop just the tiniest bit less. **


	7. Chapter 7

**I Am Damaged Goods **

"There's nothing we can do for her here, DiNozzo. Not until she's out of surgery." Gibbs had said as he persuaded Tony to go back to headquarters with him. The younger man had only agreed to go along because he couldn't have sat there, waiting, unknowing. He had energy to spend – and he might as well use it on O'Neil. His blood boiled to think of the man – and his brother. On the drive back, Gibbs had told him of the question Ziva had asked him in the ambulance.

He now knew there was a chance the younger O'Neil brother wasn't dead. No wonder Ziva was so frightened – one man was bad enough, but two was near unbearable to consider. Especially when she was already doubting herself from Somalia…

And, of course, Abby's words. Abby – besides Gibbs and Ducky – was the only one who'd been there through everything – before McGee, Kate, or Ziva. They had an understanding. The young forensic analyst's words had made everything confusing, and okay, all at once.

Now, watching Gibbs enter interrogation, Tony felt a cold restlessness running through his limbs. He felt as if something were missing – and he slowly realized Ziva usually stood next to him while they viewed interrogations.

He set his eyes on Gibbs and O'Neil.

"How's your agent?" O'Neil asked as Gibbs took the chair across from him. There was an evil gleam in his eyes, dark as mud.

Gibbs didn't respond. Instead, he opened a file and shoved it before the man. He leaned forward, a cold, hard look barely contained in his blue eyes. "How's your brother?" He countered. "Not as dead as we thought?"

O'Neil only grinned, leaning back. "Did you think leaving me here would break me, Agent Gibbs?" The criminal sneered. "The only person who'd be classified as 'broken' would be your poor, sorry agent … David?"

Tony hissed out a harsh correction the older O'Neil wouldn't hear. His blood was boiling again at the man's words. His nostrils flared as he forced air from his lungs.

The former marine slammed the folder down on the table. O'Neil flinched, a coward at heart.

"Your brother isn't dead." He exclaimed. "You've been protecting him." He flipped open another of the folders and shoved a photo at O'Neil. The man in question struggled not to show his surprise.

The photo was of earlier that day, when they'd been rescuing Ziva. The team Director Vance had put on finding the 'dead' brother had produced the picture. In the frame, the time and date in the corner, the younger O'Neil brother was caught in the act of running a red stoplight.

And that was Tony's cue: walk in, confuse him, and get him to slip. They already had him, and he was the only way to the brother. What was the story? How long had he been protecting his younger brother? Why?

He stepped in to the interrogation room while O'Neil was still staring at the photo. The criminal's eyes lifted and lit on Tony's face.

"I haven't seen you in awhile." The man exclaimed. "How's your lover?"

A muscle in Tony's jaw jumped. "Why are you protecting your brother, O'Neil? That man his wife was fooling around with? He didn't kill your brother. So what did he do, O'Neil? Why are you killing?"

"I think he's a coward, Tony." Gibbs said conversationally. "Something happened to his brother. Maybe he got beat up by that man. Got O'Neil angry …" He paused. "I think you faked your brother's death."

"_No_." He insisted, his hands twitching.

"Yeah, I think he did." Tony said. "You know what else I think? Your brother's death won't be faked if you don't tell us _where he is_."

The man was clearly shaken, and attempted to make up for it. "She kept muttering something … about Salim." He looked up at Tony with humor in his eyes. "I'll give her credit. She lasted a day. I think it's the fever that did it." Tony's fists were shaking. "My brother thinks so, too."

"You son of a bitch!" Tony lost his cool, O'Neil laughed.

Gibbs rose from the chair. One hand rested on Tony's shoulder. The superior's blue eyes were calming, where Tony's were wild. He squeezed his shoulder. "Go back to Ziva." He said, his voice much calmer than it usually was.

"Boss-"

"He just admitted his brother's involvement. You did good."

"But he-"

"He's going away for a very long time. And we'll get the brother. She needs you there." Gibbs told him. Tony's breathing calmed. "_Go_."

"Are you sure, boss?" His eyes held a light of uncertainty.

"Yeah, DiNozzo. I'll be there before she wakes up." He promised. Tony hadn't seen Gibbs this kind since Kate's death.

"Yeah. Alright." He took one last look at O'Neil before exiting the room. Gibbs turned and sat back at the table.

The man was still laughing.

--

She looked as if all the color had been drained out of her. The various tubes that ran from her arms to her IV bags did not scare Anthony DiNozzo as much as the pins securing her leg did. he refused to look at them. Instead, he kept his eyes on her face. Some said that sleeping people looked serene: this could not be said for Ziva. She was tortured even in unconsciousness. The muscles of her face were tightly pinched, as if she were bracing herself against something.

They'd let one agent into recovery, only because the team had warned the hospital against what would happen if she were to come out of the anesthesia in a frightened manner. Tony sat with her now, having come back with headquarters. Abby had been sent back to her lab until Ziva woke up - forensics work was needed to be done. McGee had been sent back to headquarters as well to shift through any files. Only Ducky was still waiting in the emergency room. Tony sat with Ziva now.

Her mouth was clenched tight, though he'd heard her cry out twice now. her closed eyes moved back and forth rapidly. Was she having a nightmare? Or was she in pain? He couldn't stand either thought.

He leaned back against the chair, the edges of it touching her bed. When she cried out again, it tore at his heart. There was only so much he could handle in one day; he'd already lost his cool in interrogation. She continued to whimper, and he couldn't stop his hand from reaching out. If she woke up and killed him for it, he'd deal. That would be easier than seeing her like this.

He placed his hand on the space where her neck and shoulder joined, rubbing small, soothing circles with his thumb. He felt the muscles twitch beneath his fingers. Tony listened as her crying stopped, he watched until her face relaxed. She suddenly looked more peaceful than he'd seen her before. Even asleep, however, he looked so tired, worn down. He didn't have shame for the way he'd yelled at O'Neil. The man deserved it, after all he'd done.

"Shh," He murmured, brushing away stray hairs with the back of his hand. he smoothed the crease of her forehead with his thumb. Ton wasn't sure whether he was talking for himself, or for her. "You're safe now, Ziva." He assured her - just in case it was indeed a nightmare she was battling. "When you wake up, I'm going to be here, I promise you. Nobody's going to leave you, but you've got to trust us, Zi. If you don't, we can't help you." He continuously smoothed the crease of her forehead.

Tony rested his head against the wall, turned toward her resting form. He remembered how helpless he'd been, knocked unconscious. how could he have allowed this? He nearly feared sleep: the last time he'd closed his eyes, Ziva had disappeared.

He had to tell himself that the younger O'Neil would be found. He could not entertain any other notion. Tony wanted to be out there himself, instead of putting it into the other team's hands: but he wouldn't let her wake up alone. It had been nearly an hour since she'd come out of surgery. He wasn't sure exactly when she would wake up, but he wasn't worried about Gibbs making it there in time: the man had a way of keeping his promises, one person only rule be damned.

_**Author's Note:**_

_**I hope you're still enjoying this: I haven't been getting as many reviews. Hope I haven't lost it with this story. Opinions, reviews, please? I promise you she's going to wake up soon. If you've got any suggestions, please let me know. This chapter was partially stemmed from a suggestion by poohunne. Poohunne, I promise that the next part of your suggestion will be involved in this story! **_


	8. Chapter 8

**I Am Damaged Goods**

"How is she?"

Though he'd known Gibbs would arrive eventually, the appearance of his boss in the doorway startled Anthony DiNozzo. The room had been silent for such a long time that the words caused him to jump. Quickly recovering, his head turned towards his boss. The NCIS agent was suddenly at a complete loss for words. His gaze fell back to the woman in question: while her face was not peaceful, she was silent.

Gibbs entered the room and moved to the other side of the hospital bed. He sat in a plastic chair that he pulled over from the side of the room. His steely blue eyes were set on the younger man, waiting in silence for an answer.

Tony swallowed, finally pulling words together. "She's not crying anymore." He murmured, pain passing over his face at his own words. "I mean, that could just be for a number of reasons, but I think whatever nightmare she was having stopped, for now." His voice fell nearly silent – in one respect, he hadn't wanted to tell the silver haired man about Ziva's pain – it felt like a secret. However, he could not follow his own advice to Ziva – to let them in, let them help, if he withheld. To withhold from Gibbs wouldn't be productive.

"I spoke with one of the doctors not too long ago." He continued, shifting in his chair. "She came in here, I didn't go out – and she should wake up soon." Tony took a breath in, looking towards their fallen ninja, wanting, needing, her to wake up.

"She's peaceful right now, DiNozzo." Gibbs finally spoke as if he could read the younger man's thoughts. "It might not be as much when she wakes up."

Tony sighed, his heart dropping. He'd almost forgotten that waking would only take her from the threat of nightmares and launch her into a real one. A waking one.

"I can't believe I messed up like this, boss." Tony said, his mouth moving almost without his permission. "She shouldn't have been taken – right under my nose, Gibbs." His eyes were in turmoil.

"It's not your fault, DiNozzo." Gibbs said after a moment of silence.

"I screwed up." He insisted.

"Yeah, Tony, you did." He told him, seeing Tony's face try not to fall. "But that doesn't make it your fault anymore than its McGee's or Ducky's or Abby's or mine, DiNozzo."

Tony didn't have the chance to answer – at that moment, something shifted in his boss's expression, causing the younger agent to shift his eyes back to Ziva.

She'd opened her eyes. Those dark eyes that were so familiar were looking at him – but they were different than usual. Her eyes were dazed and confused. Tony didn't miss the fear in them – she wasn't even trying to hide it.

"Ziva?" Tony was the first to speak, his voice nearly silent.

"Where am I, Tony?" Her voice was matter of fact, a croak. It wasn't hard to see the sudden panic in her eyes at the unfamiliar surroundings. "Where?" She repeated.

In what he'd later view as a foolish attempt, the young man reached forward to take her hand. For a moment, he'd forgotten who he was talking to. In a struggling attempt, she yanked her hand away, eyes fearful. Tony couldn't help the hurt that flashed in his eyes.

"Ziver," Gibbs began, his tone careful. The young woman's eyes flashed to him as if only just realizing he was in the room as well. "You're in the hospital."

She shook her head; dark hair clung to her cheeks. "I don't … understand." The NCIS agent croaked, her eyes darting between Gibbs and Tony. The latter could see the struggle forming in the depths of her eyes – as she came more fully into consciousness she struggled with whether to show emotion or to hide it all away.

She watched him with disturbed eyes. "Please explain to me, Gibbs." She asked of him, and he could feel his heart break.

"One of the suspects that you were trying to apprehend managed to capture you." Gibbs explained carefully. He watched her, waiting for a reaction that he knew she was trying to withhold. "Do you remember?"

There was a frantic nod of her head. Ziva attempted to raise her hand and brush at the hair clinging to her cheeks but found herself clumsy, weak and shaky. The fear in her eyes rose – she didn't like being incapacitated.

Seeming to have forgotten the earlier lesson, Tony reached forward and brushed the hair away with the back of his hand. The former Mossad officer startled; Gibbs eyes darkened in his glare towards Tony. His hand shrank back instantly; his eyes holding the apology that he didn't dare to speak.

"I remember." She whispered. "His brother." Her next words were barely spoken; she cleared her throat.

"We're after him." Gibbs assured her. She nodded in confirmation, but her eyes seemed no surer of this fact than she had moments before – she'd lost trust in herself, and thereby trust in the team that had come to her rescue days too late.

It was only seconds later that her dark eyes drifted shut again – she struggled for only seconds to keep them open before she lost the battle and succumbed to unconsciousness once again. Gibbs and DiNozzo sat in silence for moments that seemed endless, waiting for her to wake again before a knock at the door alerted both the NCIS agents to the arrival of the nurse. She was young; auburn hair tied up behind her head in a loose bun.

Gibbs rose to go towards her and Tony followed, barely able to turn away from her even as she was unconscious. The nurse's smile was kind but he hardly noticed – he hadn't the energy, patience, or time for kindness now.

"She was awake for some time, I presume?" The nurse spoke, her pale hand clutching the clipboard that she held against her white lab coat.

"She was." Gibbs said, taking lead. "She asked where she was, I-"

Ziva's terrified scream pierced the air.

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **

**I'm sorry I haven't updated in such a long time! I hope that someone will still want to read this story – I'm not too sure that I like this chapter, so … yeah, I'm not sure. I'm hoping that someone thinks I should continue this. There are more chapters, if people want them. **

**This chapter is dedicated to Agnixx, even though she doesn't watch NCIS. She thinks I type too loud. So I'm going to type extra loud right now just for your benefit. You'll find this funny when you realize that I was typing like this FOR YOUR BENEFIT this entire time. "You could wake the dead! You're typing like its going to disappear in five seconds." xD Oh, this is amusing. **

… **Yeah. Please review. Hoping someone out there is still enjoying this. **


	9. Chapter 9

**I Am Damaged Goods **

Her scream pierced the air, closing an icy hand around Tony's heart and leaving sick aftertaste on his tongue. Her scream had been that of pure terror. Tony's head spun and his heart twisted. He wondered what sick, horrific thing could cause that amount of terror in someone so strong.

All of his thoughts occurred in mere seconds, because he was already moving towards the bed that held her. Sheets were tangled around her good leg, and the one that was encased in metal and pins was pale even against the sheets that no longer covered it.

The nurse brushed past him with the intention of going towards Ziva. Gibbs moved with the speed of someone half his age, his hand closing around the nurses' upper arm, successfully stopping from making the worst move of her career.

Tony pushed past them, ignoring it al. His only concern was Ziva. Her eyes were open now, but they were unseeing. If she did see anything, it wasn't what was in the room. Ziva David was, effectively, seeing ghosts. The fear in her eyes – it broke his heart completely.

"Ziva, it's not real." He promised her, hands held before him. Her eyes didn't change from their frightened, unseeing gaze. "Ziva, please." He moved closer – the only concern he had was for her, there was no regard within him for his own safety. If she was to freak when he came too close, she could easily injure herself even further. He couldn't have that – he wouldn't.

"Get away!" She hollered – her voice was shrill, the voice of a caged animal being tortured. "Don't _touch_ me." Her voice wasn't just frightened – it was wildly terrified.

"Ziva. Zee-vah, it's Tony. It's DiNozzo." He reached forward, tentatively, and placed his hand on hers. "I'm not hurting you. See?"

It was to his intense surprise when she flipped her hand over and caught his before he could pull away. Instead of crushing it in her grip, Ziva David clutched his hand tightly.

"Save me." She whispered, pleading. "Tony." Her voice was caught in her throat, reminding him of something small.

He sat on the edge of her bed, lightly. She still clutched his hand. He was aware of Gibbs, standing three or four feet from the doorway, his arm barring the way for the nurse. The side of her head was pressed against his thigh. "Zi, wake up." He pleaded. "It's just a nightmare – you're okay. I'm right here." He did what he'd done before – reached over and massaged with his thumb where her neck and shoulder met. There was only one difference – this time, she didn't relax.

"Get me out of here." She begged. Ziva was no longer screaming – she was crying now, tears she rarely shed streaming in fat drops down the contours of her face. She was struggling, too – flinching and fidgeting as if she couldn't quite figure out how to get up.

"Hey, come on, you're safe." Tony told her, feeling his heart break. "There's nobody here. Just the doctor, me, you, and Gibbs. I promise." She didn't relax – if anything, she only struggled harder.

"He was here! I saw him." She said, persistently. When Tony looked at her, he saw that her eyes were no longer far away – they were on him, they were seeing him. Gibbs and the nurse were silent. If Tony had looked up, he would have seen that the nurses right outside of the glass walls of her room had ceased movement, watching and waiting until they had to step in.

"You were having a nightmare, Zi." He took the hand that had been on her shoulder and laid it on the cheek that wasn't pressed against her leg. For once, she didn't pull away – she was shaking, violently. "It's not real. "

"I was not asleep." Even her voice shook.

"You drifted off while the boss and I were sitting here, Ziva." The woman shook her head, but her resolve was weakened. "It's _okay_. You're safe." He soothed. "We got him, remember?"

"You did not catch Donald." She whispered, but he could tell that she was already more relaxed – her hand had loosened on his. "I saw him." The side of her face was still against his leg. "Was I …" She swallowed. "Was I dreaming, Tony?"

"You were." He promised, meeting eyes with Gibbs. His arm was no longer barring the nurse – she was standing still of her own accord, but she came closer now. It wasn't Ziva's muscles that tightened – it was Tony that had to work to let down the protectiveness he felt at watching the woman come closer. Ziva's eyes slid to the nurse.

"Hi, Mrs. David. I'm Elizabeth – I'm going to get you something to help you relax, alright?" Her eyes were kind, but Ziva shook her head. Tony' arm went around her shoulder protectively.

"I …" She struggled with showing weakness, even after all she'd already shown. "I do not want…" Her dark eyes went to Tony, who was watching her. She couldn't find the words to say what she wanted to. She didn't want to relax – she was too frightened to relax. She couldn't take another moment of not being able to have full control of her body. She didn't want him to leave – not now, but she couldn't tell him that, couldn't find the words to. "Please." She said instead.

Tony took his eyes off of Ziva for a moment to look at the nurse. "It's alright, Elizabeth. I'm not going to leave her side."

--

He was silent. He was a ghost. He did not exist.

Donald O'Neil had been dead for the past five years. That was both the point that had kept him alive and the point that he hated. Everybody now knew about his brother, the poor sap who'd been caught. He'd kept him protected, unseen, for the past five years, and for that he was thankful.

He'd always considered himself the smarter one, though his brother didn't see it that way. Just because he was the weaker one in physicality – just because his wife had cheated on him and he'd nearly been killed - did not mean he wasn't just as capable as his older brother.

As he left the hospital in the white lab coat, he smiled.

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **

**-insert dramatic music here- **

**I can't even express how AWESOME you guys are. There were nearly THIRTY reviews for the past chapter. Do it again! LOL. Please review? Yes? I want to know what you think about this one. **

**Anyway, back to being sick at home. :(**


	10. Chapter 10

**I Am Damaged Goods**

"No matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible."

- George Chakiris

"Chanukah comes early this year, doesn't it?" Anthony DiNozzo asked into the silence of the eleventh floor hospital room. He didn't expect an answer, even though it was what he wanted so desperately. All he wanted was for her to answer him – some assurance that she was indeed _there_ inside herself.

Snowflakes fell outside the window, sticking to the glass.

About two hours after she'd had what Tony still assumed was a nightmare, Ziva had been moved out of recovery and into a private room on the eleventh floor. With what had happened earlier, nobody wanted to chance her rooming with a stranger.

As he'd promised Elizabeth, he hadn't left her since.

His attempt at some form of conversation was futile, but he'd known it would be. The NCIS agent had sunk into a light green chair placed close to her bed. Luckily, it wasn't plastic this time, but had a wooden frame and a thin cushion.

There were only a few members of the team still in the hospital. Gibbs and Abby were in the café: the boss had been trying to get the forensics analyst to eat something. McGee was back at headquarters with the team who was investigating O'Neil, providing any information or files that they didn't yet have. Ducky and Palmer were back at autopsy – they always had work to do. There simply wasn't a reason for all of them to hang around her hospital room. The most helpful thing for any of them to do was to help with the investigation for the time being.

Since the interview with Harold O'Neil, no new information had been found on the younger brother. Gibbs hadn't gotten any straight location out of the older brother – only that, yes, he'd been taking care of Donald since he'd been assumed dead five years ago. That was the time when the man his wife had been cheating with had beaten him up. From what Gibbs had gotten from the bragging older brother, Donald had been taken under the wing of Harold, and, together, the two had begun killing unfaithful navy wives. Harold, the older brother, had been the brawn of the team, and Donald had been the brains. That much had been obvious.

The only thing now unknown was exactly where the younger O'Neil was.

"You know, I am going to teach you how to make a proper snow angel one of these days." Tony said, eying the snow outside. "The trick is to-"

"Stand up inside of it. Yes, I know." Ziva spoke, a whisper at first that rose in volume. She wasn't looking at him, but at the ceiling instead. "I have made a snow angel before, Tony."

He was shocked by the sudden conversation, but pleased that she was speaking. She hadn't spoken much since her nightmare – and for most of that time, he'd sat in silence next to her, letting her know that he was there.

"You know, your doctor said you could have some water." Tony suggested, eyes falling to the pitcher. Ziva nodded, still not meeting his eyes. He poured a glass of water, intending to help her drink it, but the young woman took the plastic cup with a shaking hand. Refusing to abandon helping her, he steadied it. He should have known she wouldn't accept help when it wasn't absolutely necessary: for someone who was used to being completely independent, having to need help was going to bother her.

"Toda." She murmured, to which Tony responded with a nod, replacing the cup on the table. Her eyes were on the ceiling still when she said, softly, "I hate this."

Unsure if it was a comment meant for him, Tony hesitated. When he didn't answer, she continued as if he'd spoken. "I am helpless." She could not get past it – what use was she now? She was of no use, and she hated to rely on others.

He looked at her and realized she was looking back. Her dark eyes were scared, more vulnerable than he'd seen her in years of working with her. "You're not helpless." He told her.

"I cannot fight. I cannot run." She countered. "What more is there?"

Tony shook his head. "You're alive, Ziva. You don't _have_ to do any of those things, Zi. Not anymore. Just get better."

"It is easy for you to say that." She said. "You are not the one who has pins in her leg."

"I'm not going to leave, you know."

"What?" She asked; confusion apparent in her voice.

"Just because _you_ think you're worthless doesn't mean that you are, or that we're going to abandon you. We don't just keep you around because you can fight. We're not going to throw you out because you can't kick someone's ass." The mere fact that she thought that was even a possibility, that her father and her past made her think she could be worthless because she wasn't able to fight, made him considerably sick to his stomach.

She didn't answer, and her eyes were on the ceiling again, but a single tear had made its way down her cheek.

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **

I'm writing this with a five month old kitten on my lap. He's enjoying the story as I much the rest of you are – the response to this story has been amazing. I can't believe it, that there are people out there enjoying reading this story as much as I've been enjoying writing it. Clark (the aforementioned kitten) would really, really love it if you would review – and so would I. It means a lot to me, it lets me know what you're thinking of what I've been writing … so please, if you could, review. You're all awesome!


	11. Chapter 11

**I Am Damaged Goods **

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat something, Abs."

"Why?"

The silver haired man sighed heavily. "When evidence comes in, I need you half awake." He pushed the plate of hospital cafeteria food back across the table to the young forensics analyst, who narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not hungry." She said again, but she wouldn't meet his eyes this time when she said it. Instead, she was looking down at her hands, dark hair falling over her shoulders in two pigtails. Abby shook her head for emphasis, crossing her arms and leaning back against the chair. "I'm too worried." She pushed the food back towards him.

"She'll be okay, Abs." He assured her, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder. "We got her in time."

"Do we know what that guy did to her? What they both did to her? How's she supposed to recover from that and Somalia at the same time, Gibbs? Sure, she'll be okay _psychically_, but what about …" The gothic young woman shook her head, and her pigtails swung. "We need to be there for her."

"We will be." Gibbs said. "Tony's there right now, and we'll be there later."

The other NCIS team was currently searching for the younger O'Neil brother – finding any clues that they could to his whereabouts, but it was nearly impossible for them to find him. There were no new clues, nothing – the BOLO had pulled up nothing and they were running on no leads. It was only a matter of time before Team Gibbs joined them – or at least, part of Team Gibbs. There wasn't much of a chance that Tony would be leaving the hospital.

"Tony should be the one eating." Abby muttered before taking a single bite and looking back up at Gibbs. "Better?"

There was the ghost of an amused smile. "Slightly."

"We'll find him, right, Gibbs? We'll find O'Neil, and we'll lock him away for good." She swallowed and looked towards Gibbs. "Tell me we'll find him."

"We'll find him, Abs." He assured her – and he knew that they would. When they found him, and where they found him – that was an entirely different subject all together, and he knew that Abby knew that as well.

'Good." She said, before standing up and walking towards the door, leaving the plate of food with Gibbs. "Let's go see Ziva."

TBC

_Author's Note: _

_I am so, so sorry. I know that I haven't updated in quite awhile and this is a __**very**__ short chapter. I really do apologize for that, but I just wanted to show you guys that I'm still here and have __**every**__ intention of finishing this story – if, of course, there are people still reading it after that long break. Are there people still reading it? Please review? I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter. If anybody has any suggestions, as well, I'd love to hear them. _


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